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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404515">Someday You'll Understand (the meaning of your life)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellienerd14/pseuds/Ellienerd14'>Ellienerd14</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sllikeht/pseuds/sllikeht'>sllikeht</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Author’s Favourites [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Fanart, Female Friendship, Found Family, Gen, Pararibulitis (Dirk Gently), Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), because Bart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:41:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellienerd14/pseuds/Ellienerd14, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sllikeht/pseuds/sllikeht</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped and alone once again at Blackwing, Bart’s still waiting for a sign from the universe about where she really belongs. Amanda's strange visions of a woman who needs her help prompt the Rowdy 3 to rescue her from the clutches of their oldest enemy.</p><p>After losing Ken and Panto, Bart’s hesitant to trust any more friends the universe puts in her path. But maybe the punk life is exactly where she belongs. Maybe a holistic witch is just the answer she'd been looking for. </p><p>(Or - how a murderous dirt muppet joined a weird supernatural punk family)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(referenced) Bart Curlish &amp; Ken, Amanda Brotzman &amp; Bart Curlish, Amanda Brotzman &amp; The Rowdy 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Author’s Favourites [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1451542</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DGHDA Beginner Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I'm a strange woman/Like your angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title comes from <em><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3vrp1g7FZI">Meaning</a></em> by Cascadeur (specifically the Life Is Strange 2 version)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://revenirez.tumblr.com/post/619560190879105024/its-that-time-again-beginner-bang-day-i-loved">
    <strong>Reblog the artwork on Tumblr</strong>
  </a>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Fatigue. </em>It had caught her again, in the end. The same fate that she had fallen to as a child. She had been so tired, then, of hiding away. Priest had thought it was his slimy promises of <em>answers</em> and ice cream day trips but really Bart had been young and hungry and confused. She had been exhausted. So when Blackwing came for her, when a dozen guns that could never hit her were aimed, she hadn’t fought it. (She was always fighting then, she was scrappy, she was fast. But that had only got her so far.) </p>
<p>The next time they came for her - years after her cell door opened and the universe let her out, after killing on instinct and having a friend and being so alive - Bart had run. She was bulletproof (she had always been bulletproof) but <em> he </em> wasn’t and she couldn’t risk <em> him </em> being caught in the crossfire. So she had slipped away from Blackwing’s grasp, leaving <em> him </em> behind but alive. </p>
<p>(Maybe she shouldn’t have run. Maybe that could have saved <em> him </em> after all.) </p>
<p>When Blackwing came for her a final time, the old exhaustion had found her again. Sixteen years later and the old exhaustion had snuck back in, weighing her down. </p>
<p>Panto had found his home, found his love and fixed his family. After what had happened to <em> him </em>, Bart didn’t want her sticking around to corrupt Panto’s happiness. She was a leaf in the stream of creation. She had to let the wind pull her where she was meant to go. Bart had hugged Panto tight and walked out of his life without saying goodbye while it was still a happy ending for him. </p>
<p>Francis had dropped her at Blackwing’s gate, given her an out, a way to change her mind. Baft had knocked on the gate anyway. She had walked back to Blackwing to fix things for <em> him </em>. But, mostly Bart had surrendered because she was tired of running and fighting and killing. </p>
<p>Lying in the dark (had it been that dark when she was a child? She was sure she had been allowed a window once) she had closed her eyes and hoped it would get easier. </p>
<p>Blackwing had to be her home, it was the only thing she had left. And <em> he </em> was there but <em> he </em> wasn’t her Ken anymore. There was a coldness to him now. </p>
<p>She had lay in the dark, starring in the direction of the ceiling, now hidden by the darkness. <em> Trust me child, </em>the universe whispered, but she never justified why. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Amanda rubbed her head, her vision already slipping away. Vogel shoved a notepad at her eagerly and she scribbled down the little that she could remember. The visions were more frequent now - any attempt to use the wand she had stolen from Blackwing usually resulted in one - but briefer, more fleeting. </p>
<p>She scribbled the symbol, a circle with a slanted M-shape underneath, as well as some of the numbers that had flashed. The last clear image was harder to make out, two long curved shapes that looked like antlers of some kind. </p>
<p>Vogel was crouched near her head and there was a speck of mud on her cheek that left Amanda suspecting he had poked her with a stick. Still, it was nice to see a concerned face when she woke up. “Did you see her again, boss?” </p>
<p>“No woman this time,” she answered, finishing scribbling in the strange antler shape, “but this must be related to her. I get like this feeling it’s all connected to her.” </p>
<p>“We trust you,” Vogel said, smiling earnestly at her. “Maybe it’s directions.” </p>
<p>Amanda squinted at the numbers she had written. It didn’t look like any zip code she had ever seen and the order seemed wrong. Dirk would have a better chance of understanding this kind of vague clue. “Maybe. We should ask the others if they recognise any of this.” </p>
<p>Vogel looked at her page and frowned. “Yeah. Looks weird.” </p>
<p>The rest of the Rowdies were sitting in old deck-chairs outside the van, flicking popcorn at each other. (Apart from Beast, who seemed to be making a necklace out of it.) When Vogel didn’t immediately join in, they looked at her expectantly. </p>
<p>“I had another vision,” Amanda said. She picked some grass out of her hair from where she had fallen. “Still not as strong as they used to be.” </p>
<p>“You had one yesterday.” </p>
<p>“I know,” she said, rubbing her head, “They're getting more frequent. I think it’s urgent. Does this look familiar to anyone?” </p>
<p>She handed the notepad around and they passed it amongst them. Cross looked at it for the longest before slowly turning it around. </p>
<p>“Boss?” He turned the paper to face them. “I think she’s in trouble. Look.” </p>
<p>“I don’t see anything?”</p>
<p>Cross tapped the antlers, now upside, “Look, a pair of black wings.” </p>
<p>Vogel flinched at the name.  </p>
<p>“Looks like one of their symbols,” Martin added, scowling, “bastards.” </p>
<p>“The woman I keep seeing was in overalls,” Amanda said, “like you guys when I first pulled you out. Do you think they have her?” </p>
<p>The Rowdies didn’t answer. They didn’t need to, the concern on their faces said it all. </p>
<p>“Look, I can’t ask you to go back there-” </p>
<p>“We’ll follow you,” Martin promised, “we always follow you. If we figure out where she is, we take another subject from those pricks.” </p>
<p>The rest of the Rowdies agreed, even Vogel, although more quietly. </p>
<p>“We trust you.” </p>
<p>Amanda nodded at them. “Okay then. We’ll rescue a woman we know nothing about from a Blackwing base... somewhere. How hard can it be?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <a href="https://revenirez.tumblr.com/post/619560190879105024/its-that-time-again-beginner-bang-day-i-loved"> <strong>Check out and reblog the artwork on Tumblr</strong> </a>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi! It's been a while since I wrote DGHDA fic and I forgot how fun it could be!<br/>This is just the first part so it's a little shorter but the rest of the chapter are over the 1k mark. </p>
<p>Comments and kudos are always appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I'm invisible/Like a monster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the most Blackwing-heavy chapter. There's nothing graphic (just some manipulation tactics used) but if you wanna skip, I'll post a summary in the end notes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sometimes, when the universe gave Bart a sign, it was subtle; a compass point twitching in her gut, a door that wouldn’t lock her in, a bullet doing impossible things to miss her. It had taken Bart a while to trust those instincts. (She had never killed the wrong person. She had never taken a wrong turning. Cars only broke down when they were meant to.) Once she had figured it out, once she had learned to trust the compass in her gut, following the universe became easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes it was more than just a pull in her gut. Sometimes it was a dream about Dirk Gently and kittens that bite. Sometimes it was blaring alarms echoing around Blackwing’s corridors. The universe had whispered for her to be patient before but now she urged her into action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart still had her eyes closed. She wasn’t ignoring the universe (ignoring the universe was like napping through an alarm: impossible) she was just waiting. After all the weeks wasted at Blackwing, after losing her best friend, there had to be more than just an alarm. There had to be something else, something bigger at play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t go back to being alone. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda couldn’t help but feel a prick of guilt as she watched her friends prepare. They had been quieter than usual since they began the trip back to Blackwing - following instinctives, an old road map and a flakey location spell she had attempted - and she couldn’t blame them. She had never been to Blackwing herself but from Dirk’s descriptions and Vogel’s whimpers at night, she couldn’t help but imagine the worst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey drummer,” Martin said, leaning against the van by her, “everything alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have asked you guys to come,” Amanda blurted, “I mean, it’s my weirdass visions. You only just got away from Blackwing and-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got your back,” Martin said, “Blackwing ain’t taking us back there. We’re ready for them this time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you trust me so much?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ruffled her hair. “You don’t need to ask that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda smiled. “I guess I did save your butts a bunch of times.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You brought us this far. Your magic or instincts or whatever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s close. I can feel it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey boss,” Vogel yelled, “Can you hear that?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They followed his voice to where Vogel was crouched by a bush. Amanda could make out a faint noise beyond it, like an alarm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On an impulse she didn’t fully process until she was doing it, Amanda pushed back a branch, revealing a hint of metal behind it. She pulled away more, until it became clear what was hidden behind it - a tall metal fence, with a cracked sign. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> NO TRESPAS</b>
  <b>SING</b>
</p><p>
  <b>PRIVATE MILITARY</b>
</p><p>
  <b>RESEARCH FAC</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beyond the fence was a cold looking building, a little worn down but armed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is it,” Amanda said, “this is the place. She’s here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin whistled. “Hear that boys? Get ready.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Bart finally rolled herself out of bed, stumbling around for her boots in the dark, it wasn’t giving in to the universe’s whims, she had just gotten sick of the noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It came as little surprise to her that the door pushed open easily. It was how doors were meant to work, as far as she was concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brightness of the corridor caught her a little off guard, after all the long, timeless days in the dark. (It was only allowed to be light when </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> visited; </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t visit a lot.) There were no guards outside her room either, just endless stretches of white corridors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost tripped. Bending down, Bart picked up the object just outside her room: a heavy torch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, she chose a direction and started walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The universe would put the right people in her path. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyone in there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Amanda called back. “It’s just another empty bedroom I think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no reply, Martin must have moved on with his own search. Amanda couldn’t bring herself to move away though. The room, all the rooms, had been empty and clean, prepared for a new subject. The one she stood in wasn’t clean. Dropping her bat, she knelt down to a scribble in the bottom of the floor. Only a child could have drawn that. (A tiny Dirk came to mind, trying to work out clues.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drummer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picked up her bat again, her grip tighter now. “I’m coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t going to let Blackwing get away with this anymore. What kind of sicko lets children be locked up?</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bart felt him before she heard him. The instinct to kill </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> had only grown stronger as the person who was once Ken kept her locked away. She had grown grateful of his limited visits - sometimes the feeling was so strong it made her feel faintly sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you cause this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m meant to leave now,” Bart answered, “I can’t control it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bart,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> voice was softer now, almost like Ken, (but not close enough) “Bart, you know if I let you leave, it will get me in a lot of trouble.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “If I’m meant to leave, you can’t stop me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can stop through, can’t you? You never hurt before.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angry tears build up. Bart clenched her jaw, glad he wasn’t looking at her directly. “No. I have to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop.” Footsteps, closer, closer… “Bart, stop!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She whipped around. “You stop!” She yelled back. “You stop pretending to be Ken.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Ken,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> said, soft again, calm. “Bart-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Without meaning to, Bart raised her torch up and he winced. “You believed me once. I told you I couldn’t be killed and you believed me. I told you doors open when they’re meant to and you believed me. You said I was an angel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flickered to the torch, angled for a perfect hit. “Killer angel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Bart snarled. She tucked the torch into her waistband. “I am going to go somewhere else. I don’t want to be here anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t understand-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to kill you.” Bart turned away. “And you know you can’t hurt me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t hurt you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Do you still believe me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer for a while but when he did, it was in Ken’s old voice. “I believe you. Look, just go. That way, there’s a fire exit at the end of the corridor. Do your thing on the lock.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice was shaking: “You could come.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him. Part of her (the universe obeying part) wanted to smash his head against the wall over and over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned away instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was more coming, something bigger than Ken. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cross had smashed the overhead alarm, leaving the corridor eerily quiet, with only the pulsing red light above left. It was starting to give her a bit of a headache. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda stepped over a guard who was slumped against the wall. The Rowdys had insisted on going ahead to feed on any Blackwing personnel, leaving a trail of unconscious soldiers to thread through. Apart from them, the facility had been empty - no sign of the woman she was looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Amanda trusted her visions, her instincts, her weird powers. It was still new, still weird as shit, but Amanda trusted it. She closed her eyes and tuned in to the little compass pulling in her chest and let it pull her in the right direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something cold touched her hand: a doorknob. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bart had her weapon raised the moment she heard boots outside the door. (She should have taken Ken’s advice and left. But curiosity had gotten the best of her; she had spotted his office. She just wanted to know if he was thinking of her.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creaked open and the person behind it gave a little shriek as Bart launched the closest thing at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude,” she said, “you just threw a stapler at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The intruder hadn’t been a guard then and Bart’s weapon hadn’t made a fatal hit - both which made the woman currently sat on the floor seem trustworthy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My bad,” Bart replied, “thought you were evil.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You!” The woman scrambled up on her feet. “I’m looking for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know you-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m like you,” the woman continued, “I mean- I think I’m like you. Or maybe not-” she glanced at the stapler on the floor warily, “I’m meant to find you. Or rescue you… I think. This is all new, weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rescue me?” Bart repeated. “Like, away from these Blackwing assholes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It’s like fate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling in Bart’s chest that usually signalled death and destruction seemed to do the opposite. It was like the not-killing Ken feeling she had when she met him. And the not-killing Dirk Gently feeling she had felt before. (Trust maybe.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman glanced out to the red hallway. “Wanna get the hell out of here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart scooped up the stapler again. “Yeah. Let’s go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman smiled, relieved. “Great. I’m Amanda by the way. Holistic witch and-or punk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Bart. Holistic… angel.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Summary: Amanda and the Rowdy 3 break into BW and Amanda meets Bart, who agrees to escape with them. </p><p>I hope I did Bart and Ken's relationship justice. I wasn't a fan of how it ended in the show but I still needed to honour it. You can interpret Ken letting her go how you want - fondness of his old friend, fear, trying to move BW in a different direction.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I'm the speaker/Of your silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Martin’s driving was usually precarious at the best of times but Amanda had to cling to the edge of the van as it bolted down the road. No cars had followed them but she couldn’t blame them for being eager to get away. There was an uncomfortable tenseness that had settled: Martin had been chain smoking since he got </span>
  <span>out and Cross and Gripps had been unusually quiet. Even Vogel who had stayed in the van with the engine running seemed shaken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard to tell what to make of Bart’s feelings. It was hard to make out anything about Bart really. She had the same distinctive sense of strangeness and unpredictability as Dirk. But she was less friendly, her jaw hard set as she leant against the window. The grip on the stapler hadn’t loosened, despite a smudge of blood on the end of it from where Bart had whacked a guard that made a grab for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said, her gruff voice cutting through the otherwise silent group, “thanks for the whole saving me thing. That was cool.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank Drummer,” Martin replied, “it was her idea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart frowned in her direction. “I thought your name was Amanda?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your name is ‘Manda?” Vogel asked. “Gross.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda laughed, glad for the lighter mood. “Shut up. And your welcome Bart. This is going to sound weird but it was like… fate or some shit. I had visions that led me there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would that sound weird? I kill people.” Bart turned to the window again. “I’m starving, can we stop for food?” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The food in Blackwing had been terrible. Ken had promised her more Chinese food if she complied but he never delivered. After weeks of porridge and soups (she wasn’t trusted with cutlery) the pancakes were perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only Amanda had ordered her own food, although the plate of fries in front of her went neglected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I, like, ask you something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long had you been in Blackwing for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know,” Bart swallowed her food, “felt like a long time ‘cause I was bored.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one else was there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t see no one. But I didn’t as a kid either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were there as a kid too?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “Yeah. It sucked then too. I only went back for my friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You chose to go back?” The blonde one asked - the driver - staring at her in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend was there.” Bart tried very hard not to think about Ken. “Still hungry. Can I have those?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda slid over the fries, her face twisted into an unrecognisable emotion that was uncomfortably close to concern.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have no idea what to make of her." Amanda held out her cigarette and Martin lit it. "She's weird."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All your friends are weird, Drummer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost protested but most of her friends lived in a van and the others worked for Dirk’s weird detective agency, which was currently trying to track down BigFoot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know." Amanda took a long drag. "What do you think of Bart?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin shrugged. "She seems kinda lonely. Being in Blackwing does that to ya."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda looked over to where Bart was sitting. She was sat crossed legged in the grass, her boots kicked off leaving her barefoot. She had a pile of sharp rocks besides her which seemed a little sinister. But Martin was right, she did seem lonely, especially curled up on herself like that, away from the rest of them. She’d be quiet for most of the drive: something at the diner must have hit a nerve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Van's still busted," Martin said, changing the subject away from Blackwing, "might be overheated."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She said it was a universe-thing." Bart had insisted that if the van stopped, it was meant to be there and they should just camp out there until whatever was meant to happen happened. It sounded like the kind of holistic bullshit Dirk always went on about. No wonder Todd always seemed vaguely tired with his antics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin chuckled. "Of course it is."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what I'm meant to do next," Amanda confessed, "like we found Bart but is it a lost cat deal? We get to keep her if no one else claims her? Do we even have space in the van for that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You could ask her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't think she knows where she's going either." Amanda sighed. "I wish this holistic stuff was less vague."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You'll work it out," Martin said, with a reassuring shoulder pat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Putting out the last of her cigarette, Amanda decided to try talking to Bart again. She might be less intimidated if it was just her. (Not that Bart seemed like the easily intimidated type. In fact, she gave off vaguely feral vibes that were the complete opposite.) Before Amanda could reach her, Bart stood up, grabbing a rock from the top of the pile, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda turned around on instinct, following Bart's gaze to where a large black jeep had pulled up behind the van. The Rowdies scrambled to grab their weapons but Bart was faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I got this," she muttered to Amanda, "this is part of my thing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jesus." She replied. The wand was inside the van, so she grabbed one of Bart's rocks too, although the Rowdies stepped in front of her protectively anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jeep door opened, where two heavily armed men stepped out. They looked angry and it didn't take a gun expert like Farah to realise they were dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Blackwing," Martin spat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Screw you," Cross yelled, raising his crowbar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey assholes!” Bart called, moving in their direction. She was still barefoot and seemed smaller than ever - part of Amanda wanted to pull her out of their path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Marzanna," one of the men said in panic. "With respect sir, we won't be enough to stop Marzanna. We need back-up. We need-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't get to finish what he needed because a large rock struck his forehead and he fell backwards. The other soldier flinched but raised his gun, firing heavily in the direction of Bart. Amanda squeezed her eyes tight, clinging onto Gripps hand. But when she opened them again, it was the soldier who lay on the ground, Bart somehow holding the gun he shot at her, not a scratch on her, apart from a little splattered blood. She tossed the gun aside casually and wiped blood from her cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry about that," Bart called in their direction, waving cheerfully. "That should be it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you know that would happen?" Amanda couldn't help but ask. "That we'd get attacked?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something like that," she replied. “I told you, cars don’t just stop. That’s not how it works for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Amanda dropped her own rock, feeling a little shaken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Does that happen a lot to you?" she asked later, when there was a beer in her hands and the bodies had been moved away. She still felt a little sick about the whole thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the way I was made. I travel and I meet people and there’s a feeling I get so I kill them. If I kill them, they were meant to die. I never kill the wrong people.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart only shrugged. “I don’t have the answers. Not how it works.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I figured." She sighed. "I thought being a weird witch would be my calling."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart didn't say anything else. "I'm just a leaf in the stream of creation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You sound like Dirk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know Dirk?" Bart asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. He's my brother's best friend. He's like you, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. But he doesn't kill people. He fixes them. he finds answers."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's a detective. Or he says he's a detective. The whole thing seems a bit like he runs away and things solve themselves around him." She looked at Bart in interest. "How do you know Dirk? Were you like, friends, in Blackwing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sullen expression returned to her face. "I wasn't allowed to see other people in Blackwing. But we're the same. He doesn't like me though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How come?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I tried to kill him like once. And then a bunch of times after I didn't try to kill him and he still made his police friends lock me up. I don't want to kill him anymore."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda once again couldn't help but wonder how her life had ended up full of such weird people. "You try and kill a lot of people?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only the people I'm meant to," Bart said vaguely. "I ain't meant to kill you. It's the opposite to wanting to kill you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though they hadn't known each other long, Amanda had a feeling that was Bart's way of offering friendship out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cheers to that."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Letting Bart have a little murder, as a treat.<br/>Bart isn't the best at making friends, so I imagine her line is 'I don't want to kill you, can we make friendship bracelets now'.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I'm the question/To your answer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Amanda has a pararibulitious attack in this chapter. It's after the last page break and shown from Bart's poverties but skip if you want.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://revenirez.tumblr.com/post/619560190879105024/its-that-time-again-beginner-bang-day-i-loved">
    <strong>Reblog the artwork on Tumblr</strong>
  </a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The van was working in the morning. It left Martin - Amanda had filled her in on the names of her friends - vaguely confused.</p><p>"That's how cars work," she explained, with a shrug.</p><p>"Which was we headin' Drummer?"</p><p>Amanda closed her eyes. "No idea. No instinct here anymore. Away from Blackwing sounds good though."</p><p>Bart was inclined to agree. Even being in the same jumpsuit was making her skin itch.</p><p>"You got any clothes?"</p><p>Amanda started roaming through several bags under the seat. She passed over a leather jacket.</p><p>"Here. Not much of my stuff will fit you. But you can cover up the symbol thing."</p><p>Bart pulled it on. Amanda was right, the jacket was way too big and needed rolling up to fit her smaller frame. But she had never been one for perfect fitting clothes. Most of her clothes were stolen anyway.</p><p>"What does it mean?"</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"The M," Amanda said, "on your jumpsuit. I saw it in a vision."</p><p>"Blackwing have those symbols for all their little projects," Martin said.</p><p>"They called me Marzana there."</p><p>"Assholes," Amanda said, which was met by whoops of agreements by the others.</p><p>"Assholes," Bart agreed, although the memory of Ken letting her go flashed traitorously.</p><p>"We could stop by a thrift store and get you some new clothes if you want," Amanda offered. "You know, that fit better. If we can make Beast look punk, we can make anyone look punk."</p><p>"Punk?"</p><p>Amanda laughed. "Come on, you don't know punk?" She gestured to herself - from her hair-shaved head, to her own leather jacket and spiked boots.</p><p>"I don't have to do all that on my face, do I?"</p><p>It occurred to Bart a little too late that was probably rude. Amanda laughed anyway. "Hey, don't knock the eyeliner. You have not idea how hard it was to find good makeup on the run."</p><p>"I like it Boss."</p><p>"Thanks Vogel."</p><p>"I'll find something," Bart said. "I don't care what I dress like. Clothes aren't important."</p><p>Amanda's smile faded. "Clothes are super important. At the risk of sounding like my Mom's life coach-"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"If you don't do things for yourself, you don't feel like yourself. Like, I had-have this illness in me. So I spent years scared of doing anything fun because even a haircut could trigger an attack. But it was making me feel worse."</p><p>"I cut her hair!" The little one - Vogel - said. "Now she looks super punk."</p><p>Bart's hair was usually a tangled mess. She pulled on it and winced.</p><p>"Trust me," she said. "You've been stuck in Blackwing wearing that gross jumpsuit for weeks. You'll feel more... human with normal clothes."</p><p>Bart wasn't convinced. The last time she had dressed up and had real fun was stealing the cowboy clothes with Panto and those had ended up covered in blood anyway.</p><p>"Trust me," Amanda said again.</p><p>Bart shrugged. "I guess I could do with a jacket that actually fits."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Amanda wasn’t sure why she was so confident new clothes were what Bart needed. Dirk would call it a hunch but she would consider it more of a self-confidence thing. There was no way wearing that jumpsuit was helping her mood; no wonder she seemed so closed-off. </p><p>She had only known Bart for three days but she found herself slightly protective of the strange woman. (Even if Bart had proved she didn’t need protecting.) She had her visions for a reason, their paths were connected somehow. </p><p>“This place is massive,” Bart said. She was looking around the thrift store in childish wonder. “You can try any of these clothes on.” </p><p>“Yeah. Haven’t you been…” Amanda trailed off. “I guess not.” </p><p>Bart picked up a cowboy hat from a stand and plonked it on her head, laughing maniacally. “This place is awesome.” </p><p>The rest of the boys wandered off to do their own shopping, Beast following them eagerly (she had grown especially attached to Vogel, although Dirk was still her number one crush). Amanda suspected Martin might have encouraged the rest of them to give the two of them some space - Bart did seem to trust her best.  </p><p>Bart left the cowboy hat on as she grabbed a basket. She seemed a little stunned by the scale of things, so she led her in the direction of the women's section. </p><p>“I never done this whole shopping thing before,” Bart said, shoving a hideously patterned shirt in her basket. “What’s the point?” </p><p>“To find cool clothes. I used to go thrifting with my brother all the time when we were kids. Our parents weren’t well off and we were into the whole punk music scene anyway.” Todd had taught her how to fix scuffed boots and let her listen to rock music on the old band shirts he picked up. “I missed thrifting.” </p><p>Bart had added something pink and fluffy into her basket. “Why’d  you stop?” </p><p>“I got sick.” She doubted Bart would have heard of pararibulitis. “A generic nerve disease. It sucked. I had to stay inside all the time. Like I’d go weeks without seeing anyone but Todd. Hard to keep friends that way.” </p><p>“I get pretty lonely too,” Bart admitted, touching her hat. “Went years without seeing anyone.” </p><p>“Hey, you’ve got us.” Amanda nudged her shoulder against hers. “You wanna play a game? Me and Todd - that’s my brother - used to find the ugliest shirt possible for the other to wear.” </p><p>She laughed. “What. You’re real crazy.” From someone else it might sound sarcastic but there was something so earnest about Bart. </p><p>“Okay, meet you by the weird headless mannequin in ten minutes. No cheating!” </p><p>Bart nodded and raced off, her basket already full of vaguely ugly clothing. Amanda turned her attention to the rack of shirts, already smiling. Playing thrifting games reminded her of Todd again - she really should call him at some point - and of all the fun things she imagined when she was stuck in her house sick. After literally travelling to a magic world, it was surprising even little games like that were fun. If she took Bart to a grocery store, it would be a weirdly fitting day out. </p><p>Bart was already waiting, now with a basket on each arm, grinning maniacally. (Her smile was still a little feral-looking but it was starting to grow on her.) She shoved a bundle of fabric that was a painful shade of orange at her. “You first.” </p><p>“Okay dude. How bad can it be?” </p><p>It was <em> bad. </em>Amanda had never favoured bright colours - she had been wearing black since Todd first showed her ‘The Addams Family’ - but it was especially bright. It was patterned with little misshapen and off-brand Pikachu faces. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself in the mirror before stepping out to show Bart. </p><p>She clapped, delighted. “It’s so orange.” </p><p>“I feel like Dirk,” she joked, spinning around to give her the full view. “This is truly awful, thank you Bart.” </p><p>The feral smile returned. “Me next.” </p><p>Bart kept laughing as she got changed, throwing the grey and blue jumpsuit over the door into a heaped pile. She poked her head out, hair even more wild than before. “I love shopping.” </p><p>“Let me see.” </p><p>Amanda’s pick had been a real thrift store gem - a christmas jumper that had been knitted upside down. The jumper was far too big on Bart’s frame, reaching her knees. </p><p>“I love these little guys,” she said, poking the upside-down reindeers. “I wanna keep it.” </p><p>“No way,” Amanda said, “you don’t keep the ugly clothes.” </p><p>“Can’t stop me!” Bart said cheerfully. “It’s my money.” </p><p>“Wait, where did you get money from?” The jumpsuit had no pockets and she’d only been carrying a stapler when they left Blackwing. </p><p>“Stole it from those assholes’ car.” Bart shrugged. “They had a bunch of folders too.” </p><p>She supposed it was hardly the most illegal shit they’d get up to. And it was safer than trying to use her old credit card. </p><p>Bart disappeared back into the changing room. “This dress is awesome.” </p><p>Amanda took a seat, ready for the fashion show. “You’re not talking about that hideous pink thing are you?” </p><p>Bart only cackled in response. Amanda couldn’t help but join in. She would have never imagined herself laughing with a slightly murderous woman as she twirled around the changing room, but it almost felt like they were meant to be friends. </p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The woman behind the checkout was being real slow - Bart never had that problem when she stole stuff - sighing as she scanned the tag on her sleeve. She had left the jumpsuit in the changing room - the last thing Bart needed was a reminder of Blackwing - and changed into short dungarees and a striped shirt. </p><p>“Is your friend okay?” the woman asked in a dull voice as she counted out the money. </p><p>Bart turned to look out the window where Amanda had been smoking outside. She had fallen on her knees, flapping her hands around anxiously. </p><p>Bart scooped up her bags. “I gotta go. Keep the change.” </p><p>“Wait!” the woman called, waving a long bit of paper at her. “Don’t you want a receipt?” </p><p>“Not real… control it… shit…” Amanda had her eyes tightly closed, shaking. </p><p>Bart wasn’t sure what to do - Amanda had said she was sick but she didn’t know what came next. </p><p>“Hey-“ </p><p>“Bart,” she said, “where are the boys. I- ahhh- I need them.” </p><p>She dropped the bags and raced into the store. intuition led her to the smallest of them and she pulled Vogel by the wrist towards Amanda. </p><p>“She’s freaking out and shaking and it’s bad-“ she babbled, “fix her.” </p><p>It seemed to be enough for Vogel, who raced ahead to reach Amanda. He held his hands above her, which glowed a bright blue. “You okay now, Boss?” </p><p>“Yeah. It’s been a while since I had an attack.” Amanda pulled herself to her feet. “Fire again. Like that doesn’t get old.” </p><p>“Did you see anything?” </p><p>“Yeah, actually it was…” Amanda stopped and looked up, “here. We need to go.” </p><p>“We can handle any trouble Boss!” </p><p>“I know Vogel, you’re, like, super scary. But it was Blackwing, in my vision, and they were coming here.” </p><p>He paled a little. “I’ll get the guys.” </p><p>“Are you okay? You were freaking out like,” Bart began to intimate how Amanda was shaking before realising it probably wasn’t helping, “um-” </p><p>“Attacks suck,” Amanda said, “hurts like they’re real. Usually I have the boys to help.” </p><p>Bart wasn’t sure what to say to that, she wasn’t good at making friends. </p><p>“But I have visions after. They’re real. They guided us to you.” </p><p>She did say she was a holistic witch. “I believe you.” </p><p>“Just, you don’t seem worried that Blackwing might be coming.” </p><p>Bart reached for a rock. “I can handle them.” </p><p>
  <a href="https://revenirez.tumblr.com/post/619560190879105024/its-that-time-again-beginner-bang-day-i-loved">
    <strong>Reblog the artwork on Tumblr</strong>
  </a>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was my favourite to write. I just loved the idea of them shopping, bonding and laughing together.<br/>(You can use your imagination to fill in what the Rowdy 3 were up to lol)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. But someday you'll understand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite Amanda’s protests, the Rowdies had insisted she rest up for a bit. It was hard to tell if it had been her attack or the Blackwing soldiers that had put them on edge. (If Bart hadn’t been there…) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love it here,” Bart launched herself at the bed. “Did you guys know that we own this tiny room now?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s how motels work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I stayed in one of these places before with-” Bart stopped, her face scrunched up in a frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of them piled in. The motel was on the smaller side but Amanda was used to sleeping in a van. At least it had a balcony and air-con. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we see the files?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart tipped out her bag, scattering second-hand clothes, several bags of chips and money onto the bed. The files were at the bottom, slightly squashed and smeared with either blood or chocolate (either was very Bart). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The files were heavily redacted, blocked out in black pen. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b>UNCONTACTED SUBJECT 040 </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>Project Jofur</b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>SUBJECT NAME: </b>
    <strike>
      <b>REDACTED</b>
    </strike>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>LAST KNOWN LOCATION: </b>
    <b><strike>REDACTED</strike>,</b>
    <b> Spokane Valley, Washington </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>ABILITIES: Weather altering powers, dangerous </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>STATUS: Uncontacted, B-team observation </b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amanda flickered through the rest of the pages, all with similar information. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what this is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Words!” Vogel answered </span>
  <span>enthusiastically</span>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. But look, it’s a collection of holistic people in need of help. This is exactly what I’m meant to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Rowdies grinned at her. “When do we start Drummer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Project Jofur. Whoever it is lives in Washington. We can drop by Seattle on the way, visit Dirk and Todd, visit Farah! And you guys can track them with…” Amanda kept planning, missing how Bart slinked away.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So this is where you disappeared to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t disappear,” Bart muttered. “I ain’t invisible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She folded her arms. “Dude, you’re sitting in a bathtub. I’ve had enough bad days to know that’s a sign you’re upset.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda kicked off her boots. “Shift up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I’m going to let you go through this alone?” Amanda sat across from her. She tried to look serious but a hint of a smile betrayed her. “God, I wish this was the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to be in the bathroom. What’s up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My friend works for Blackwing. I thought he was a good person and then I started wanting to kill him. If I want to kill people, they’re supposed to die. But I didn’t kill him ‘cause I thought he was good still, just a little bit.” Bart hugged her knees. “Blackwing is following us, spyin’ on people. That’s his fault.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the only person who could feel bad for not murdering someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was supposed to kill him. I gotta follow the stream of creation.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Follow it on your terms then,” Amanda said. “Earlier, with those Blackwing guys you killed then even though you had been having fun. You saved us. The stream of creation, the universe, whatever, it brought us together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already killed those guys and brought you the files. What if that’s all you needed from me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda shook her head. “No, we’re meant to do something more. Those uncontacted subjects are being watched by Blackwing. So, we could probably use a kick-ass holistic assassin for the trip. Maybe that’s what you’re supposed to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was starting to tear up. “People aren’t usually so nice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda gave her hand a squeeze. “We’re friends, okay? Forget your shitty old friend. We have your back now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got your back too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we get out here now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She offered a hand and pulled her out of the bath and Bat threw herself towards her, pulling her into a slightly awkward hug. Amanda had to lean down a little to reach her properly but it was oddly comforting all the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we order some of those little meals they bring to the door?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From a motel? Best not. We can get like, takeout or something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do people do takeout Chinese food?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That can be arranged.” Amanda wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re staying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Epilogue</em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now it’s official!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart twirled in her new leather jacket - bright red, stolen from Dirk’s wardrobe and with ‘Rowdy 3’ written on the back - as her new friends cheered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome.” Amnanda gave her a high five. “Bkackwing don’t stand a chance against the Rowdy Three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are seven of us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re aware.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They piled into the van, music blaring, and Bart rested her head against the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was exactly where she was supposed to be. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bart and Amanda have a surprisingly lot in common - being isolated for a long time, their link to Dirk's adventures, trying to find themselves without being defined by their connection to the universe. I had a lot of fun writing them becoming friends, balancing each other out, having emotional talks. (In a bathtub because it's a symbol that comes up in DGHDA more than you'd think) </p><p>Thank you so much for reading and make sure to check out the other fics and art in the DGHDA Beginner's Bang collection. It’s all brilliant! </p><p>You can follow me:<br/>Tumblr - @bazwillendinflames<br/>Twitter - @ellienerd14]</p><p>And Hal (artist):<br/>Tumblr/Instagram - @revenirez<br/>Twitter - @revens19</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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